


Taking Matters Into my own Hands

by Supernatural_Whatever



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Dark Theme, Dean Winchester Dies, Dean Winchester Dies Repeatedly, Depressed Sam Winchester, Episode: s03e11 Mystery Spot, Heavy Angst, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Song: Heat of the Moment (Asia), Suicidal Sam Winchester, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:28:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23678419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supernatural_Whatever/pseuds/Supernatural_Whatever
Summary: Over and over again. Like clockwork. Dean would die and Sam would wake up, the same song playing again and again. Everyday, he had to watch his brother die. He was sick of it. He was done with it. So he took matters into his own hands.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Comments: 3
Kudos: 108





	Taking Matters Into my own Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Hey beautiful people! I'm going to warn you, this fic contains very triggering topics. Please read the tags and stay safe. I don't want any of you getting hurt.

**_♪ Heat of the moment ♪_ **

Sam's eyes snapped open once again as the dreaded song blasted out from the speaker next to him. He tiredly sat up, to see the scene of his brother tying his shoe.

"Rise and shine, Sammy!" Dean exclaimed joyfully. No doubt, he was looking forward to going to the diner today. The one where every Tuesday, Sam explained to him how he was stuck in a time loop. Every. Single. Day.

In response to that, Sam tiredly stared at Dean. It was pointless to be angry at him. Pointless to try and act. It didn't matter. This was his 232nd Tuesday in a row. And every single time, Dean would die. And every single time, Sam was absolutely powerless to stop it. No matter what he tried to change. No matter how hard he tried.

Sam flopped back down, his head hitting the pillow. The hunter tightly squeezed his eyes shut.

He was powerless, and he was blaming himself. He couldn't stop Dean from dying. He had figured out the root of the problem. The damn trickster. The one that was more powerful than anything that the brothers had come up against. And when Sam confronted the Trickster, he laughed and restarted the day, once again. The man who had same syrup every day was gone, and nothing else changed. The waitress still dropped the hot sauce, Dean still ordered the Pig n' a Poke. The dog still barked, Dean still bumped into the girl. 

"Come on Sammy!" Dean smacks his leg, jolting him away from his thoughts. Sam opened his eyes, shooting a small glare at his brother. He didn't want to get up. He didn't want to watch Dean die again.

With great reluctance, Sam heaved himself off of the bed, and dragged himself to the bathroom, slamming the door shut. He met his own eyes in the mirror. The bags were heavy under his eyes, and his hair was standing up at odd angles. He could hear Dean bustling around on the other side of the door, oblivious to Sam's problems. The hunter stared at his own reflection, his fists clenching tightly at his sides. He couldn't do it. Not again.

And then an idea popped into his head, startling him. Maybe, just maybe, he could end this time loop once and for all. A last resort option. But Sam was out of options. Everything he tried, failed in the end. He was never going to make it to Wednesday, no matter what he tried. The only option he had was a last resort.

His nails dug into his palms as he tossed the idea around in his head. It would devastate his brother, but it could break the time loop that he seemed to be stuck in. Life would move on for the rest of the world, and for Dean too. But what would Dean do? Try to save him? Bring him back? He already sold his soul once, it's not like he could do it again. Sam had to remind himself that this was for the sake of everyone. The world would still turn without him. The seasons would change. Dean would live to Wednesday.

His hands relaxed, leaving behind little crescent moon creases, not deep enough to bleed. His mind was made up. 

Sam threw the bathroom door open carelessly. Dean looked up from tying his shoes, his grin faltering at the look on his brother's face.

"Hey, you good man?" He commented, which Sam ignored. He crossed the room in two quick strides, making for his duffle. He pulled the handgun from it's little pocket on the bag. He didn't need to check if it was loaded or not. It was always loaded.

"Sam" Dean called. Sam could hear the concern in his voice, which made this harder. He stared at the gun, studying it as if it was a bug. With a deep breath, he cocked the gun, a bullet falling into place, ready to shoot.

"Sam." Came Dean's voice, this time a warning. Tears pooled behind Sam's lashes. He had to do this. He had to. He couldn't watch his brother die again. He tightly gripped the gun, and shakily rose it to his temple.

Dean sprang up, practically jumping to Sam's side.

"Sam Sam Sam wait- Sammy stop!" he pleaded, trying to take the gun from Sam's grasp. He fought against it, gripping the gun.

"Dean let me do this! Please I have to" He begged, attempting to step away from his brother. He put his pointer finger on the trigger, as Dean put his hands up in surrender.

"Sammy, come on. Whatever this is, we can figure it out." Sam shook his head, taking one more step from his brother.

"I'm sorry, Dean, I have to." He replied. He closed his eyes, and took a breath. The tears spilled, sliding down his cheek, and he pressed in the trigger. 

"No!" Was the last thing he heard as he crumpled to the ground.

"Damn kiddo, I messed you up bad." The voice came to Sam. He whirled around, only to be met with the face of the Trickster, who had a sad smile on his face. They were still in the motel room, but Sam wasn't Sam. His body was still laying on the ground, blood pooling from the gunshot wound in his head. Dean held Sam's head in his lap, saying something that Sam couldn't hear. It clicked. Sam was a spirit. He was truly dead. But instead of getting a reaper, he got the Trickster.

"Why?" The question sprung from his lips as a response. He looked down at the Trickster, desperate for the answer.

The Trickster sighed. "Because, I had to teach you a lesson. You can't always save your brother. This co-dependence that you two have, is your weakness. Nothing good will come out of it. Only pain," He shook his head. "This wasn't supposed to happen. Consider my words, Sam. You can't save each other forever. Stop sacrificing yourself for him." He warned. Sam couldn't even get out a response before the Trickster snapped his fingers.

_**♪ Gotta get back in time! ♪** _

Sam practically sprang up from the bed, eyes wide and frantically sweeping the room. They landed on his brother who appeared from the bathroom.

"Dude are you gonna sleep all day?" He snapped jokingly.

Sam stared at Dean, practically waiting for him to disappear. This wasn't heaven, he knew that much. It had to be real life. He looked at the date on the stand next to his bed. It was Wednesday. Not Tuesday. "It's Wednesday!" He exclaimed. Dean gave him an odd look and nodded.

He scrambled off of his bed, and pulled his brother into a tight hug. He buried his face into the other's shoulder, gripping his shirt.

"Dude, how many Tuesdays did you have?" Dean questioned, and Sam simply shook his head.

"Too damn many."

**Author's Note:**

> Please, please, PLEASE, If any of you are thinking about suicide, I want you to call 1-800-273-8255  
> This is a suicide hotline, and I want you to use it.  
> Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Let someone help you.  
> Always Keep Fighting <3


End file.
